one more troubled soul
by Smiley612
Summary: What would you do if your soul mate wasn't yours in return? (Percy never thought he'd actually have to ask himself that question.) [Oneshot - Cover art by Viria]


**A/N: I went so long without Percabeth before HoH that I actually had to think twice about whether they'd be soulmates or not.**

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**/o~~~o/**

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Poseidon's son could never fly.

He knew that, and that was why the only time he had ever rode in an airplane was when he was 12, traveling to Olympus to deliver his father's lightning bolt.

However, at age 25, much older than a Greek demigod usually lived, Percy Jackson went down the way he'd always hoped he would: fighting. He wasn't sure what he was fighting for, but a monster slayed him in battle, and he felt himself falling with a smile on his face, falling, falling, falling -

And then, he flew, and he'd never been happier knowing where he was going. Percy was de-aging as he flew through the air, traveling back to where he belonged, only about 50 miles away. His age count went down: 24, 23. He watched Clarisse and Chris tie the knot. 22, 21, 20. He celebrated his twentieth birthday with his mom and Poseidon, who had come from the sea to see his son. 19, 18, 17. He watched Annabeth die again, like he did for months in his sleep after she'd first died.

16. Fighting Gaea with the other Six and in the Battle of Manhattan with his fellow Campers. 15. Fighting his way through the Labyrinth with his two best friends and brother. 14. Meeting Nico and Bianca and going against Camp rules to make sure Annabeth was still alive. 13. Meeting Tyson and remembering a quite funny - but also quite traumatizing - sight of Grover in a wedding dress. 12. Being chased by the Minotaur and starting his demigod journey.

11. Being sent to Yancy Academy. 10, 9, 8. A long chain of new schools and new friends and lost pens. 7, 6, 5. Meeting Gabe for the first time and hating him within the first hour. 4, 3, 2, 1. August 18th, 1993, 6:48 PM in a hospital in the Upper East Side.

He remembered his life before age sixteen, but he didn't go any further back than that. Sixteen was Percy's height; it was when he kissed Annabeth at the bottom of the lake, met Jason, and Piper, and Leo, and Frank, and Hazel. It might have been difficult, but he'd loved being sixteen; it was before he'd turned seventeen and Annabeth had died.

He finally landed in Camp Half-Blood, the place where his soul would rest for the rest of eternity.

He'd half expected to be greeted with Annabeth Chase, the person he'd waited eight years for, to run and hug sixteen-year-old Percy and tell him how much she missed him, then punch his arm and call him a Doofus before walking off into the strawberry fields together.

Instead, he was greeted with silence.

The spirit world didn't feel much different from the regular world. It didn't look much different, either, compared to the last time he'd been here. As a sixteen-year-old now, he wanted to break the eerie silence, but it was too curious for him, a hyperactive turd, to break it.

Charlie and Silena were sitting by the campfire, roasting marshmallows. Percy smiled, happy that his friends were happy. Then he realized that it wasn't completely quiet, that there was a faint, almost silent, sound coming from the cabins.

He'd figured all his friends were back in their cabins - Piper (passed on at 18) would probably be eternally arguing with Drew (passed on at 19). Leo (passed on at 16) would be back in Bunker Nine while Nico (passed on at only 15) would be wherever Bianca was.

It was sad that before today, the only Seven of the Prophecy left were Percy, Jason, and Hazel. Frank had gone down back in 2008, when the seven had formed, fighting for Hazel and everyone else. But they were demigods. They knew their fate. But they'd stepped up, and faced the challenge and proved themselves as real heroes.

Percy turned around from where he was staring at the cabins, to the lunch pavilion; he'd figured maybe Annabeth would be there, alone, waiting for him. He'd run up to her and kiss her and the Camp would disturb their silence for a moment by picking them up and dumping them in the lake, just as they'd done eight years before that.

As he turned around, his happy feeling had suddenly become depressing. He wasn't excited or full of anticipation anymore, because he saw Annabeth; and, just as he'd predicted, she was at the lunch pavilion. However, she wasn't alone there.

Luke Castellan, the real hero of the prophecy back before the Seven had formed, was holding hands with Annabeth at the same table she'd kissed Percy at, the two staring quite lovingly at each other with the sunset shining on the beach only a few meters away. Neither of them seemed to notice the teenage boy standing in front of them, a look of betrayal and confusion on his face as Annabeth, his soulmate, had shared her soul with another man, a man that wasn't Percy.

What would happen if your soulmate wasn't yours in return? Percy never thought he'd have to ask himself that question, but here he stood, in front of his soulmate, with no one to come up to him and hold his hand and spend the rest of eternity with him. He was truly alone this time, and he didn't know how to react.

"Annabeth," he'd called out, his voice not quite strong, but not quite weak, either. When his soul mate didn't turn around at his voice, it broke his heart even mother with every second she didn't move from her spot in Luke's arms. He didn't have much control over himself in the spirit world, since this was only his soul, and his soul was only following where it was supposed to rest.

But if he wasn't meant to rest eternally with Annabeth, then where was he supposed to go? He could go back to Poseidon's cabin and lay down in the bunk, waiting and expecting Tyson to stumble through the doors and laugh about how Grover blew stuff up, but Percy hadn't seen Tyson in forever. For all he knew, his half-brother was still in Poseidon's realm, making tools with the other cyclopes.

Charlie and Silena had found peace. Michael Yew, Ethan Nakamura, and everyone else who had passed away as a demigod had found peace with themselves as they rest here, whether with a lover or not. But Annabeth balanced Percy out; she was there when he got too cocky and all he wanted to do was charge through the battle at hand and scream "YOLO" but she'd stopped him. He had been planning on spending the rest of his life with her; they would find their peace at Camp Jupiter and make a family, and they'd tell their son and daughter all about the adventures they'd shared, starting from when they were twelve and Annabeth hated his guts. Because she _hated_ it when Percy romanticized their relationship too much; she'd developed feelings for him when she was fifteen, not twelve, like Percy liked to joke.

He didn't know how long she had been staring at the cabins for, but without a word, he felt a small tap on his shoulder. Five years of memories came rushing back to him, of memories with the Yankee Cap that could turn oneself invisible, when he'd feel a tap on his shoulder, turn around, and no one would be there, but he'd hear a small, almost silent laugh and he'd knew his girlfriend was at his old tricks again.

This time, when he turned around, Annabeth wasn't wearing a Yankee Cap. She was sixteen-years-old physically, much like him, the height of her life before she'd died in battle like the rest of them. Percy breathed out shakily, unsure of what to do or what to think? Was Luke just her substitute until Percy came, was she just now reuniting with him, ready to take on the rest of eternity together in Camp Half-Blood? Was she telling him off, was she going to tell him that she never loved him and she didn't mean it when she thought he couldn't hear her as they tumbled through the air on their fall down to Tartarus and told him she loved him?

He wanted to speak all his thoughts and all his insecurities, but nothing came out. The only sound uttered was another breath, and without a word, Annabeth took Percy's head and hugged it against her shoulder.

And he knew.

It took him a few, but very hard, seconds to let go of her arm, as he knew he was letting go of her forever. He couldn't smell her lemon shampoo like he used to, as it had been eight years and she didn't use lemon shampoo on her hair anymore. He finally let her go, watching her beautiful face without one word. Her studied her for the last time: her blonde hair in princess curls, much like the first night he'd saw her as he was almost unconscious. Her stormy gray eyes, always planning something, even if she _had_ been dead for eight years and couldn't redesign Olympus anymore.

They shared a long look for many seconds before Annabeth broke it off with him and walked away. He'd watched helplessly, as his only real love walked farther and farther away from him, back to the dining pavilion, where she held hands with Luke once again and smiled, completely forgetting that Percy Jackson, who had probably only been a dust bunny, someone she was just using, to her, and Percy could almost cry. He'd waited eight years, eight long years, for _this_.

That was the story of how Annabeth Chase left him forever.

And that was the story of how Annabeth Chase broke Percy's heart for the first and last time.


End file.
